


Help Me Chase Those Seconds

by kyewopen



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyewopen/pseuds/kyewopen
Summary: Tyler Joseph doesn't believe in soulmates.





	Help Me Chase Those Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know whether I should post this fic but some people encouraged me so here it is, hope you'll like it!

You’ve never believed in soulmates. You’ve always thought it was some kind of myth that adults were telling children to feel better about their lives. You live in such a complicated and messed-up society, after all, it’s not surprising that people want to beautify it. And you don’t blame them, you even think that it has a good side.

But there is no such thing as soulmates. That, you’re sure of. Love. It’s such a foreign concept to you. You grew up in such an unloving family, raised by a mother who was too drown in alcohol to even realize that she had a child, and by an abusive father who ended up throwing you out on the street when you were only 15. You don’t blame him. You know he went through so many dark times and that he just needs help. You’re just scared about your mom. You know that your dad wasn’t used to assault her but you’re afraid that now you’re not living with them anymore, he will start to lash out against her.

You lived in the streets for six months after that, earning money by any way you could, until you met Mark. He brought you home one day and you’ve been living in his flat since then. It’s a small flat, but it’s enough for the two of you, and way better than you could ever imagine. It was hard, at first, to adjust to your new life. You tried to get a job, but nobody wanted to hire an ex-homeless person with no real experiences. You eventually found one, though, in an emergency shelter for drug addicts and homeless people. You’re good at it. One of the bests. Because you know how to talk to them. You know what they’re going through. When you were alone in the streets, sometimes the only way to feel like you could survive was to ignore your problems and forget your life by taking all kinds of drugs. And you guess that they’re okay to talk to you because they know you’ve been there before, that you’re not bullshiting them by giving them some tips while you don’t even know what it’s like to be like them in the first place.

It’s tiring, your job. But you love it. Even if it makes it harder and harder to believe that there is still some good in this world. All these people, all these people you see everyday when you’re going to work, they’re abandoned. They’re forgotten. Society doesn’t care about them. But you do. You care. And you try to remember every face, try to remember every name, every story. You just want to make a difference. You just want to make a difference in this heartless, insensitive society.

It’s in this state of mind that you’re living your flat this morning. You still have the small cup of coffee that Mark brought you home from Starbucks fifteen minutes ago.

‘Okay, I’m on my way, Mark! I’ll see you at lunch?’ You ask, loudly, so he can hear you from his room.

‘Yeah, what about we go to Taco Bell? Don’t feel like cooking today!’

‘Do you ever feel like cooking, man?’

‘Good point!’

You’re working at the reception desk this morning. Your job is to welcome these people, listening to them if they want to tell you about their lives, staying silent if they don’t feel like it, and calling them by their names if you remember them, to make them understand that they’re always welcomed there. You must be careful too, because some people enter the building in a terrible state. Some of them are completely drunk or drugged up, even in the mornings.

That’s what you’re doing for four hours, you like that part of the job, it’s much more interesting than the administrative part. You soon have a break and as you’re going up the streets, you smile at some homeless people you recognize and you’re about to take your phone out of your jean’s pocket when you collide with someone, making you fall on the ground.

And that’s when you feel it. You’ve never thought you would. Of course, you’ve heard a few stories from some people, but you only thought that they were exaggerating, that it was all fake. But now you’re sitting on the street, and you lock eyes with the stranger and you can _feel it_.

You feel hot. You feel so hot you could faint at any moment. Your hands are shaking, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, it’s beating so fast you’re afraid your whole body might explode. Your head start to hurt, but you can’t stop looking at this stranger. You can’t look anywhere else, it even seems your eyes are glued on him. He has vibrant pink hair, a nose piercing, and he’s wearing an old tee-shirt and a black skinny jean. He must be your age, maybe a little younger than you and he’s staring at you with the same look of disbelief on his face.

It’s only when he’s opening his mouth to say something that you start to be aware of your surroundings again. You’re in the streets and people are looking weirdly at the both of you. You’re looking down on the ground and that’s when you see it, the man has your wallet in his hands. He has deliberately jostled you, so he could take it. You’re about to say something but the stranger gets up and looks at your wallet for a few seconds before dropping it on the ground, as if he had just changed his mind.

‘I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to…’

You’re just staring at him. You have no idea of what you’re supposed to say to him right now.

‘I’m sorry.’ The stranger says again, breathless. ‘I… I have to go.’ He gets up and starts to take a few steps backwards, still watching you with incredulity.

‘Wait!’ you answer, almost whispering. ‘Don’t go!’ You add.

‘I’m sorry.’ He repeats, before turning over and running away from you.

‘Wait! Come back!’ But he’s already gone.

You’re watching him disappearing of your field of vision and you stay there, in the streets. You stay there, motionless, for a few minutes, unable to decide if you should try and catch up with him or if you should just ignore it.

You’re cold, now. You’re shivering. The weather is warm, but you don’t think you’ve ever been this cold. You slowly bend down to pick up your wallet and you let one of your hands going through your hair, the other wiping the tears that you don’t remember feeling along your cheeks.

You turn over and make your way towards the Taco Bell, smiling slowly at Mark who has already ordered for you. He’s sitting at this table and he looks at you with wide eyes when you take a seat in front of him.

‘Oh my god! What happened? You look like shit!’

‘I… Mark, I think I’ve just ran into my soulmate.’

 

...

 

Why did I agree to go shopping with Mark? That’s what you think when you follow your friend in what it feels to be the hundredth store. You don’t like shopping. And you hate shopping on Saturday afternoons. The mall is always so crowded, and you don’t like buying clothes for yourself. But you were always wearing the same tee-shirt and Mark forced you to go there, telling you you wouldn’t get out of this shopping center until you had bought what he would judge as the necessary amount of clothes to live a normal life.

You hate it, and keep shaking your head when your friend Mark shows you items of clothing every fives minutes. You know that you make no efforts and that you probably should if you want that afternoon to go faster but you can’t help it. Shopping is boring.

‘Seriously, Mark?’ You say when this one shows you what you think is a jumper that could belong to a 70 years old grandpa.

‘Come on, just pick something, then!’ He answers, obviously bored.

You walk through the store for a few minutes until your eyes fall on something that you actually like. It’s a cardigan with flowers on it. You look at it for a while until jumping with surprise when Mark puts a hand on your shoulders, looking at the same thing.

‘You do know you’re in the girl’s section, right?’

‘Oh?’

‘You like it?

‘Well… Actually, I do.’

‘Okay, well we’re taking it.’ He lets you try it above your shirt and smiles, telling you it suits you.

You sigh when you see the long queue at the checkout, but you decide to wait anyway, knowing that Mark won’t let you get out of this store without having bought the cardigan. Your friend can be very stubborn, sometimes even more stubborn than you, but you must like him very much anyway because you’ve been living with him for the past three years.

You’re soon out of the store and you follow your friend and that’s when it hits you another time. You feel sick. You start to have trouble to breathe, as if you just ran a marathon. You’re breathless and you feel small drops of sweat rolling down your back, as if you were having a panic attack. But it’s not a panic attack. You know what it is. You remember. And your eyes start to scan the crowd, desperate to find the same man you’ve seen six months ago in the streets.

You stay there, with a lump in your throat. You can see your friend looking at you with an alarmed look on his face. You can see him talking but you can’t register the words that are coming out of his mouth.

And then, you see him.

It’s the same man. But this time, he has yellow hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but he knows you’re here, you’re sure of it. He seems to be in pain as his eyes are closed shut and his fingers keep rubbing his temples.

You don’t think twice about it and you’re running towards him, ignoring your friend who’s asking you what you’re doing. You don’t even know what you’re doing. You just run, trying not to jostle the people walking towards you. You run until you think you’re close enough.

He has his back turned to you and seems to try and find you in the opposite direction. Before you know it, your hand is already being placed on his shoulder and he’s suddenly turning around until his eyes fall on you, for the second time.

‘It’s you.’ You say, with a smile. ‘It’s really you.’

You look at him and all you can see is fear. You’ve never seen someone who seems more scared than him. His lips start shaking and he’s looking at you with such astonishment that it almost makes you uncomfortable.

‘What’s your name?’ You ask with a gentle voice.

But he just stays motionless, and quiet.

‘I’m Tyler.’ You add, smiling. You think that maybe if you say your name first, he’ll be more inclined to talk, and to answer you.

‘I can’t do this.’ He finally says, and starts to walk, backwards, and this reminds you too much of the last time you saw him.

‘Don’t run away from me again.’ You say, with a tone of urgency in your voice. ‘Please.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He adds, taking a few other steps. ‘You’re beautiful.’

‘Stay.’ You beg him.

‘I wish I could.’ He answers. ‘Remember me.’

But just like last time, he’s gone.

‘I will’ you whisper, even though he can’t hear you.

 

... 

 

You’re on the train. You just spent Christmas with Mark’s family. You’ve never really liked Christmas. But Mark didn’t want to let you alone in the flat this year. That’s how you usually spend the 25th of December. Sometimes, you celebrate at work, along with your co-workers and every people who want to join in.

You didn’t feel like it this year. You wanted to have a normal Christmas, for once, with people you love. And Mark is one of them. He even might be the only one, now you think about it.

You’ve been on this train for two hours now, and there is only one hour left. You feel tired from the day before and you decide to close your eyes for a few minutes and eventually fall asleep.

You wake up with a start, feeling a bit nauseous. You don’t think anything of it, though. After all, you’ve been eating way too much these past few days and you always tend to be sick in this period of the year, with all the germs going around.

After a while, the train stops in a city and you look through the window for a few minutes before taking the book you’re currently reading. It’s a small book and you don’t even enjoy it that much, but it keeps you busy.

‘Excuse me, sir?’ You hear, after a few seconds. You look up and smile at the old woman in front of you.

‘Yeah? Can I help you with anything?’

‘No, I just wanted to tell you that this man seems to want to catch your attention.’ She says, pointing at someone, and your heart just skips a beat.

It’s him. And this time, you can feel it’s different. Because he’s looking at you with a big smile on his face. And you could cry, just by looking at him. He’s beautiful and you can’t believe that he’s going to slip away from you a third time. You’re just looking at each other, saying nothing, just smiling. And you can’t help but notice that he’s squinting his eyes when he’s smiling, and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

You look at him so carefully, this time. You want to memorize everything about his face. You want to memorize his red hair, you want to memorize his brown eyes, his mouth, his nose, his ears, his gauges, his perfectly white teeth, everything.

Suddenly, you can see him looking down on his knees and you’re wondering what he’s doing until he looks up at you again and pressing a sheet of paper on the train’s window. Three words are written.

_‘I’m Josh.’_

Josh. It suits you, you think.

You let out a small laugh at this and smile when this one looks down once again, writing down a few other words on the paper, before showing it to you one more time.

_‘You really are beautiful.’_

You can’t help but blush a little when your eyes fall on these few words, but it only makes him smile a little bit more. And you suddenly have the greatest idea. You go through your bag and take a pencil and a sheet of paper out of it.

_‘Can you give me your number?’_

You know the train could move at any moment and you don’t think you’ve ever felt your heart beating faster than it is right now. You can see Josh giving you a sad smile and pressing this same sheet of paper against the train’s window.

 _‘I don’t have a phone.’_  And he mouths the words _I’m sorry_ at the same time.

And he’s looking at you and his eyes are full of love, of trust and affection that you can’t stop a few tears from rolling down your cheeks. It’s been three years since you first saw him on this street and you can’t believe you’ll have to wait until another time.

_‘Don’t cry. We’ll see each other again. I promise.’_

It’s the last words you can see. But as Josh disappears a third time, you can’t help but wonder:

 

_Will there be a next time?_

 

...

 

You’re about to sing. You used to write poetry when you were still living in the streets, it was your way of coping with the harsh reality. It has become your favorite hobby, since then, writing poetry and turn your words into a song. You’ve never sung in front of anyone before, except Mark. He’s the one who convinced you to sing in this pub in the first place. You said no a few times before eventually giving up, as every time Mark is asking something from you.

But as you sit at this piano, you’re wondering why you’ve said yes to something like this. You hate being the center of attention, but people don’t seem to want to stop their conversations to listen to you and it makes you feel a little bit better, as much as you want them to like your songs. The bartender is slowly making you a sign to let you know that you can start anytime, and you’re looking at Mark one last time before playing the first notes.

It’s the first song you’ve ever written and after a few minutes, your voice starts to catch the attention of some people who look up to watch you play, but you’re already in your own world at this point and you don’t notice the people staring at you.

You play a few songs, without saying much between each of them because you’re afraid it will ruin your mood and you can’t even think of something to say. You don’t feel the need to talk to them, and you don’t think it’s necessary. If people really want to get to know you better, they just have to listen, you don’t have to say anything.

After about thirty minutes, you finally look up at the crowd in front of you and smile when everyone in the room claps, Mark included. This one seems to be way more excited than anyone else and it only makes you smile a little bit more.

‘Thank you. My name is Tyler Joseph and I-‘But you can’t finish your sentence because a pink-haired boy is watching you with a broad smile on the other side of the large pane. At first, you’re afraid you’re having another one of your hallucinations. After all, it’s not the first time you think you see the man that haunts all your dreams.

But this time, it feels real. It feels too real. Josh is staring at you with squinty eyes and you stay there, motionless, and dumbstruck. Your eyes hurt but you don’t dare blink because you’re afraid that Josh might disappear another time if you do.

‘Mark?’ You ask, after a few seconds, not caring if some people in this pub look at you with confused expressions. ‘Can you see him?’

‘I can.’ Mark answers. ‘He’s here, Tyler.’

And so, slowly, you stand up from your chair and make your way towards the exit of the pub. You open the door and can instantly feel the wind lashes your face and your whole body is shaken by the cold but it’s the last thing you care about, right now. You only have eyes for the man standing in front of you.

‘You’re here.’ You say, as if you still don’t believe your eyes.

‘I am.’

‘You’re real.’ You add. ‘Tell me you’re real.’

‘I am real, Tyler. I’m here. You’re not dreaming.’

You look at him with tears in your eyes. You look at him for so long until you can’t take it anymore and you throw yourself into his arms.

‘I thought I will never see you again.’

You can feel one of Josh’s hand tracing small patterns on your back and the other one stroking your hair, gently. You can feel his skin against your cheek and his hair on your hand. You can smell his perfume and you’ve never thought that a scent could smell like home.

‘Don’t you dare running away from me, this time.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ He answers. ‘You’re stuck with me.’

‘Good.’ You say, crying. ‘I can’t believe the universe made us wait so long.’ You add, burying your face in his neck.

Josh doesn’t answer anything. He doesn’t have to.

After a few minutes, he still moves away from you, just enough for him to look at you. He stares at you for a long time until he decides he can’t wait any longer, and closes the space between the two of you by pressing his lips against yours.

And you can’t describe the feeling that travels through your body. You just know you’ve been wrong all along. Love does exist. And it might be the best feeling in the world.

You feel whole.

‘So… I guess we’re soulmates, then?’ You say, almost shyly, and Josh can’t help but to let out a small laugh.

‘Yeah, thank you, Mr Obvious.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, my sister wanted me to write a soulmate AU, it's not the kind of fics I'm used to write so I'm curious to know what you thought about it! 
> 
> I just wanted to let you know that I might not post anything new for a while, I feel very insecure about lots of things, my writing included, and let's say AO3 doesn't help me to feel better so I just thought it could be good for me to take a break from this website for a while. 
> 
> I'll come back, though, for sure, maybe sooner than I think, but I just wanted you to know that. Alright, thanks for reading :)


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